


Conversation Given in Echoes

by morningeve



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), i try out my best impression of richard siken, please read i spent a lot of time on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningeve/pseuds/morningeve
Summary: She says,say something or you’ll regret it.a prose poem from steve's pov





	Conversation Given in Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a year ago, but never knew how to finish it until now. 
> 
> This is inspired heavily by [two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdoECqnMhpA) [fanvids](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nh0yyYErDrM). The first one inspired the first line and the second one gave me the music and mood that I wrote this poem to. Because who doesn't love NEC 'verse?

She says, _say something or you’ll regret it._  
It sounds like moonlight in Budapest, like an  
arrowhead notched in her belt, red hair  
underneath black dye, and the first drink of  
kindness after a life in the desert. She says,  
_what’s the worst that could happen_ , and it  
sounds like cigarette smoke curled around  
a Brooklyn alley. _What’s the worst that_  
_could happen, pal?_ A lot of things. _Like_  
_what?_ But my hands can’t begin to list them  
because my fingers tremble every time I do.  
That’s why I let go—I couldn’t reach, I held  
on to the wrong thing.  
  
She says, _not everyone gets a second_  
_chance._ It sounds like weighing your heart  
against the world, like red polish dripping  
from your nails, stains the handle of the  
clippers on accident. It was all for fun. She  
says, _don’t let go this time._ You see, I didn’t  
notice, I didn’t know it yet. My head was  
stuck in the clouds and my heart in the  
trenches. _I warned you, pal._ See, that’s  
what makes it worse. I was fighting a war,  
but you were already counting the bruises  
underneath my skin. You were tracing the  
scars in my palm and told me we would  
meet again in the future. You knew and  
then you left.  
  
She says, _you can open your eyes now._ It  
sounds like she means something else.  
Truth is a matter of circumstance. I always  
saw him, even when I didn’t. Traced the  
crinkle of his eyes, smudged the charcoal  
on my thumb against his lips. I noticed, just  
the wrong way. My head didn’t know my  
heart was fighting a different kind of war.  
She says, _now you know._ His smile, his  
laugh, the crinkle of his eyes, and how it  
stabs my heart. But not his lips, his pulse,  
the way his eyes will roll back, how he  
tastes. _I’m the handsomest guy on the_  
_block, pal._ I know.  
  
She says, _you’ll figure it out._ It sounds like  
sooner or later. I live in between borrowed  
moments that ran out once I woke up. Time  
held me still as death so I could keep up  
with you, but not keep you. It slept with me  
in a dream and drowned me in a new kind  
of horror. She says, _just breathe._ In and out.  
It’s all a memory now. A habit, a pretension.  
Confidence is a mask I wear when the  
world tells me I need it. You knew it too,  
back when I didn’t realize a smile could  
hide the kind of death that makes you keep  
living. _It’s alright, pal, it’s alright._ I’m alright  
too. It was always easier when you were  
there.  
  
She says, _you deserve to live._ It sounds like  
she’s just scraping the bottom of the barrel  
for pretty funeral words. Life dragged me  
back kicking and screaming from where I  
had him, brought me back to a place where  
I have all and none of him, all at the same  
time. She says, _you can stop now._ It  
sounds like a farm upstate, pitter-patter of  
feet, and soft rain against the harvest. I let  
go of the past, but the past won’t let go of  
me.  
  
She says, _say something or you’ll regret it._  
Like the words haven’t flooded from sounds  
of pencil scratching and paint dripping from  
the easel. Like I haven’t breathed the frost  
into your lungs a million times. She says,  
_say something or you’ll regret it._ But how  
can I when the words choke me faster than  
the rushing water. You were a familiarity I  
took for granted. Constant and  
commonplace. The low-light hearth that  
never lit me up, but kept me warm. I spent  
so many years in the snow, I forget what it’s  
like to be afraid of the cold.  
  
She says, _what do you want?_ I don’t know.  
Says, _what makes you happy?_ But I’m not  
sure anymore. _C’mon, pal, you gotta want_  
_somethin’._ I wanted you and I didn’t know it.  
_Say something, before it’s too late and you_  
_regret it._ But she doesn’t understand, it  
sounds like a prophecy fulfilled. She says,  
_what is it then?_ And I say, I don’t go looking  
for trouble, but it always seems to find me.  
_Why d’you always have to go looking for_  
_trouble, pal?_ I wanted to make the world a  
better place. _Who’s gonna make you_  
_better, pal?_

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated!


End file.
